


A kitten in Rivendell

by raiyana



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: All children love Bifur, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Toys, carving
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-11
Updated: 2017-07-11
Packaged: 2018-11-30 16:08:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 763
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11467023
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/raiyana/pseuds/raiyana
Summary: Basically, I couldn't sleep so here's Bifur being epic in Rivendell.Aka, the fluffy reward for reading 'The Chaos of War'





	A kitten in Rivendell

Bifur was carving a kitten, playfully crouching as its tail swished, frozen in the moment before it pounced on a piece of string and immortalized by his clever fingers in a piece of birch wood. If they had been in Ered Luin, Fjelarun would have been the obvious recipient, fond of all animals as she was, but Fjelarun was far away, much farther than Bifur had travelled since before her birth. Around him, birds were singing to each other, invisible among the branches of trees that seemed older than any others he had seen. Rivendell had a curious beauty, to Bifur, even if it was comprised of very few straight angles - a mark against any piece of construction to a dwarven mind. Thorin was even more ornery than usual, though that might be due to the Elves themselves, rather than their architecture. Bifur's knife removed another sliver of wood, smoothing the kitten's paw. He did not have any files along, of course, and Mahal wept if he'd begin rooting around this place when he was more than capable of removing any rough edges with his knife alone. One ear folded down, the other raised to a point, and the kitten was coming to life between his scarred hands. 

Bifur knew the moment he was no longer unobserved, but he made no motion to alert his little watcher - perched in the three a few yards to the left of him - to his knowledge. 

The elfling - ears as pointy as any of the adults Bifur had seen - took a while to gather enough courage to approach, but she did approach him, looking raptly at the small animal in his hands. Bifur hummed, keeping his voice gentle, as he showed her the unfinished toy. The elfling's eyes, almost too large for her face, widened impossibly as she watched. It did not matter that he didn't understand a word of her song-like tongue, lilting like the babbling of a brook. It did not matter that she had no way of knowing what he was saying back, all that mattered was the quiet snick as the knife cut off ever tinier slivers, Bifur's thumb feeling for any leftover roughness before making another move with the blade. The girl, who reminded him almost painfully of a young Blidarún, kept up a constant stream of words, requiring little from Bifur but a hum here and there, agreeing with whatever she said. 

He also knew the moment someone else arrived among the trees, but the unknown observer did not reveal themselves. Bifur kept shaping the wood he held. 

When the kitten was finished, he held it out for the little girl to take, soaking up the brightness of the smile she gave him. He was surprised when she hugged him, clambering onto the bench to reach his shoulders, but he patted her small back fondly. Sitting beside him, the small girl proceeded to tell him a story starring her new toy, and Bifur felt a pang of bittersweet longing for his nieces and nephews. The scene was familiar, even if the story told was not one he could understand the words for, and Bifur simply enjoyed the cloud of happiness that seemed to surround his little friend. Whoever was watching from the trees remained silent.

At the sound of the dinner gong, Bifur's companion vanished amid a torrent of incomprehensible words, waving at Bifur with a happy smile as she darted off. Her disappearance was followed swiftly by the appearance of an adult elf, whose face expressed such heartache that Bifur's own heart gave a lurch in his chest.

"Thank you," the elf gasped, falling to his knees a few yards away from Bifur's bench. Tears were running down his cheeks but his smile was so radiant Bifur had to return it. "She has spoken to no one since her mother...passed," the elf continued, choked with emotion. Bifur nodded. He hummed a few notes, but the elf seemed to have realised that he was unable to answer with understandable words. Rising to his feet, he bowed deeply to Bifur before disappearing among the greenery once more.

 

When the Company left Rivendell, Bifur left behind a small carved figure; a tiny, pointy-eared girl in a pretty dress. He had borrowed a pair of scissors and a needle from Dori, and the dress was made from the fabric of the curtains, but it was the same colour as the small elfling's on that day in the garden, and Bifur felt confident that her adad would see it reach the right little fingers.


End file.
